One
Brick
"Brick, man, I'm not so sure this is a good idea."
I rolled my eyes at Tristan's downer attitude. This was a fantastic idea. Maybe even the best one yet.
"Marni's gonna be pissed, dude."
"I know." I smiled a secret smile to myself. If my best friends and band mates haven't figured it out by now, they probably never would, but I lived for Marni's attitude. The angry fire in her eyes was beautiful on any given day, but when it was directed at me, it was magnificent.
"C'mon, man. I like Marni. She's a cool chick." My partner in crime was doing his best to dissuade me, but I would not be deterred. Oh, no. Not today.
"Tristan, if you don't want any part of this, that's cool. I plan on taking full responsibility for my actions, anyway." And I was going to do so, dare I say, gleefully.
Tristan scrubbed his head, wavering with indecision, his loyalty to me warring with his Boy Scout code of honor.
Hearing his groan, I smirked. "Giving in, are we?"
"I hate you," he muttered.
"Yeah, yeah."
I took one last look around the parking lot where our tour bus was parked along with the eighteen wheeler that hauled all our equipment. With the coast clear, I gripped the door handle to the rig's driver side door and yanked. Climbing inside, the herbal scent of Marni's shampoo assaulted me. I inhaled deeply, marveling at the way the smell sent a shock wave straight to my dick. It didn't take much. Not with Marni.
I had never in my life responded to a woman the way I responded to her, my honey-voiced temptress. Her compact body, curved in all the right places, was what wet dreams were made of. Her dark hair begged to be wrapped around my fist, and her eyes, so dark and mysterious, glittered like black diamonds. She had the plumpest lips, pink and perfectly bow-shaped, ideal for--
"Dude, quit fuckin' around, and hurry up!" Tristan hissed, effectively disrupting the beginnings of my favorite fantasy.
"Chill, already, I'm coming." I reached into the bunk behind the driver's seat, grabbing what I came for. I climbed back out, slamming the door behind me. "Okay, let's go."
"I still don't think this is a good idea."
"This is a great idea."
"She's going to kill you."
"She's going to try." I relished the thought. I mentally twirled my imaginary villainesque mustache.
Walking into the hotel, I kept my eyes peeled for the brunette poppet whose attention I craved. Nowhere to be seen. Perfect.
The soft ding heralding the elevator car's arrival signaled the near end of my covert mission and time to let Tristan off the hook. "I think we're good, man. Thanks for playing lookout."
Tristan's side eye was less than subtle. "Just don't come crying to me when Marni feeds you your balls."
"No crying," I agreed. "Check."
Stepping off the elevator, my best friend and I parted ways, our rooms being at opposite ends of the hall.
"Brick?" Tristan called, having stopped several feet away.
"Yeah?"
"As messed up as this is, I hope it works out for you this time."
I slung my loot over my shoulder and pulled out my key card. "It will," I said with more confidence than I should have felt. "I should have done this months ago."
I watched Tristan shake his head as he walked away. I let myself into my room and kicked my shoes off. I climbed onto my California king-sized bed and set the timer on my watch for shits and giggles. I predicted it wouldn't be long before my dream woman came knocking on my door, demanding that I give her all her clothes back.
"Brick! Open this goddamn door!"
I smiled, stretching like a cat and folding my arms behind my head. The adrenaline that flooded my body in anticipation of Marni arriving seeped out of my pores as I languidly relaxed into the hotel bed's comforter. Just the sound of her voice, even when it was shrieking like a banshee, calmed my every nerve. God, how did she do that?
"I mean it, Brick! I swear to God-"
"Door's open, sweet lips!"
My heart jumped in the space between when the pounding stopped and the door knob hesitantly began to turn.
"Don't be shy, sugar."
Proving she was anything but, she swung the door wide and stormed in, all fire and fury and fucking gorgeous. "Where is it, Brick?" she bit out.
"Where's what?"
She closed her eyes, breathing deeply. She was probably praying for patience, but I was praying to see the rise and fall of her tits one more time. "My bag, Brick. Where's my bag?"
I feigned innocence with wide eyes and an overly exaggerated shrug. "I know not of which you speak."
"Oh, you-" She clenched her jaw and swallowed. "My big blue duffel bag. The one that has all my clothes in it. The one that you took from my truck."
"Sorry, sweet lips-"
"Don't call me that."
"-but I didn't take your bag, and frankly, I'm offended you would accuse me of such a thing."
My dick twitched when she rolled her eyes. How was that sexy? I shifted my hips, crossing my legs at the ankles, and hoped she didn't notice my burgeoning erection. Not yet, anyway.
I watched her march across the room, throwing open the closet door and slamming it shut again when she didn't find what she was looking for. I admired her ass in her tight jeans as she bent over to look under the desk, the bed, and in the drawers of the bedside tables. Really? Like that giant duffel was going to fit in a nightstand drawer?
My blood heated as I witnessed her mounting frustration. Christ, she was going to be the death of me if she didn't put me out of my misery soon.
"What the fuck, Brick?" she yelled from the bathroom before storming back out. "Enough." She punctuated the word by slicing her hand through the air between us. "I know you took them because I know I locked the cab when I took Simon for a walk, and the only other person who has a set of keys is Lorraine, and you're the only bastard smooth enough to sweet talk Lorraine into handing them over."
She wasn't wrong, Lorraine was a dragon, but she was also a woman who responded to my brand of flirting. Once, I'd seen her rip Shep up one side and down the other for leaving a spilled beer bottle on his amp, and Shep was Shepard "King" Kingston, son of two veteran rock stars and therefore rock royalty. I'd once accidentally set a couch on fire trying to rewire some sound equipment by myself, and Lorraine had patted my cheek and told me I was adorable. "Listen," I sighed, sitting up and swinging my legs over the side of the bed. "I've got plenty of clothes. You can wear something of mine."
Narrowed eyes shot frickin' laser beams through my flesh. A lesser man would have feared for his life. This man got a boner.
"I'm not doing that," she scoffed. "Give me back my clothes."
"I don't have them." It wasn't exactly a lie. Technically. "I swear." I pushed myself up off the bed to dig through the open suitcase on the floor. "Here. You can wear this."
"I can wear what I have on," she insisted, though it was obvious she was itching for something clean but didn't want to admit it.